


Relevant Arrows

by ScarletteStar1



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bear - Freeform, Erotic, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, I'm officially Shoot trash, Romance, RootxShaw - Freeform, ShawXRoot, Smut, crazy shoot feels, sexy Shoot times, shoot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:32:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 15,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8225384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Summary: There are a million moments of succulent Shoot that I wanted to capture like little butterflies. Some are sweet; some are salty.  Some are angsty; some are silly.  Mostly canon compliant extrapolations, or just blatant extrapolations, but not necessarily in order with the timeline of the show.  Kind of flying by the seat of my pants, or maybe there aren’t even any pants. . .  because, you know, Shoot. . .





	1. The Day the Whole World Went Away

She looked around her at the chaos. It was like something out of a warzone, although even in the Corps she’d never seen anything like this. Six hundred prisoners escaped. Anarchy. A part of her thought maybe she should be enjoying this a bit more. But there was a wall blocking her already blunted feelings. Volume turned down to mute.

And then Reese’s phone buzzed. “Fusco,” he said and took a few steps away to answer it.

She’d never understood it when people said their life flashed before their eyes before death or near death. She’d always thought death was death. Like turning off a light. There was nothing flowery or poetic about it to her.

All the times she had come close, it had never happened to her. She’d never seen her life flash before her eyes in any way, shape, or form.

Shape.

Root had been talking about shapes. It suddenly struck her that those were Root’s last words to her. They had come that far and in the end, Root’s last words to her were a fucking pre-school lesson about shapes.

 _Dammit Root_ , she thought.

And then, _This isn’t real. This is another sick simulation._

And then again, she touched the spot behind her ear.

And then she knew.

Reese didn’t say anything. It was the stillness of his shoulders and the small shake of his head that delivered the news to her. She blinked. And in that moment there was a flash before her eyes. Root trying on lipstick, taking the chip out of her arm, winking at her, kissing her, stealing a sip of her soda, drinking a cocktail at a bar on a case. Root in a bear costume. Root driving her batshit crazy with all of her sappy antics and emotional declarations and philosophical speeches. All of those little moments flooded her in one shocking second. In the next second anger rose.

_Dead is dead._

She was looking, wide eyed, at the calamity before her. Spotlights spread out in the darkness, but the light switch had been flicked down. None of it made sense. She tilted her head to the side and tried to clear it.

She wanted to tell Reese not to look at her like that. She wanted to scream into the black, endless night that everyone everywhere should stop fucking looking at her like that.

But she blinked again, and knew her face would never give her away.

Later, much later, she would go to the subway. She would open up Root’s laptop and be slightly surprised to find that it smelled like Root’s perfume. She would press her nose into the keys and sniff, but would be unable to trace the exact location of the scent. She would want, for a moment, to go into Root’s room and lie down in her bed. But there would be no time for that. She would settle instead for grabbing one of Root’s leather jackets and tossing it over her own shoulders. It would be too big, but it wouldn’t matter.

She came back from the past and the future to the present, standing outside of the prison with Reese.

“We need to get to Finch,” was all she said.


	2. Just the Way You Like It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sexual material. . . and all pants are off, because I had to do something to make up for the fact I bummed you all out with my first chapter. Enjoy!

“Ohhhhhhhhh,” Shaw moaned. “Ohohohohohhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmhhhhhhh. . . hey, Root, why’d you stop?” Shaw raised her head off the pillow so she could look down at Root, between her legs. “I was almost there.”

“I know you were, Sweetie,” Root practically sang. “I can feel everything down here.” Her chin glistened with Shaw’s arousal and with her own saliva. She smiled, almost sadistically at Shaw. 

“Don’t be a fucking tease,” Shaw grumbled, plopping her head back down on the pillow and thrusting her hips up at Root. “Finish me.” 

Root put three fingers into Shaw, curled them a bit until they found the sweet spot on Shaw’s inner wall. “You are so bossy,” she said. She dipped her mouth down and flicked her tongue out, right where she knew Shaw would be exquisitely sensitive. But as she felt Shaw getting close again, she paused. 

“What. The. Fuck.” Shaw hissed. 

“Do you know what I love?” 

“Uh, aside from lip gloss and motorcycles and talking to your robot BFF and making me extremely frustrated right now?” 

“Lady God is not a robot, silly. And anyway, I’m trying to be serious here.”

“Me too. Now less talking and more tongue.” 

Root obliged, but only for a moment. As soon as she felt Shaw’s thighs start to tense and tremble, she backed off. Again. This time she took her fingers out and sat up. 

“Did you know I used to dance, Sameen?” She asked. 

“Random,” Shaw said. Figuring that she was not going to get her way right at that precise moment, at least not until Root got whatever this was out of her system, she propped herself up on her elbows and looked at Root. “No. I didn’t know that about you.”

“Well I did. I did twelve years of ballet, tap, and jazz. My legs were too long to be very good at hip hop, but I tried it anyway.”

“Why are you thinking of that right at this particular moment when you should be focused on my clit?” 

“Because, Sweetie,” Root said and lowered her head to kiss her way up Shaw’s thighs, but still did not make contact with the aforementioned clit. “There was this expression we used to use when we were doing something really well, when we were really sticking a combination of fouettes, or perfectly executing a triple pirouette.” 

“You should know I am going to perfectly execute you if you don’t make me come soon, Root.” 

Root completely ignored this and continued, “The expression was ‘sitting in the pocket.’ It meant that we were in this really sweet vibe, making dance our bitch.” 

“Is this analogy meant to illustrate that you are making me your bitch?” 

Root laughed and did that thing where she flipped her hair out of her face and blinked her eyes several times at Shaw. “Not exactly,” she said. “But when my hand is inside of you, like this,” and here she thrust four fingers roughly into Shaw, “And when my mouth is on you like this,” and she lowered her lips to Shaw and suckled at her swollen clit, “I feel like I am right in the pocket with you, feeling you quiver, feeling you move for me.” She turned her head and bit the silky inside of Shaw’s thigh. She bit it hard. She clamped down on it and bit it until she knew it would leave a mark, until Shaw writhed in a mixture of pain and pleasure and anticipation. 

“Fuck yeah,” Shaw whispered and arched up again, begging Root with her body language to put her mouth back where it did its most effective work. 

“It’s like you’re mine,” Root said. “Mine and mine alone, right in this moment, right here where I have you right now, with my fingers in your precious, slippery pocket, right before you come all over me.” As she spoke, she intermittently licked and sucked at Shaw, in rhythm with her fingers, in rhythm with the rotation of Shaw’s hips. She increased the pressure of her mouth on Shaw’s clit, and Shaw could feel that Root was snaking her other hand down between her own legs. “Tell me you’re mine, Sameen. Tell me you belong to me and me alone.” 

“Shit,” Shaw gasped. “Root, you know I’m not into that kind of stuff.” 

“I know,” Root moaned and moved her long fingers up again inside and against Shaw’s sweet spot. “I know you’re not. But tell me anyway. Tell me you’re mine.” 

“That’s dirty pool,” Shaw moaned. 

“Oh, Sweetie, it’s very dirty,” Root crooned as she licked and swirled over Shaw. “But say it. Tell me you’re mine, right now, while I’m doing you just the way you like it.” 

“Root, fuck,” Shaw said as she impaled herself against Root’s mouth and fingers. She was so close. So close. 

And then, stillness. 

They both laid there, panting, waiting, on the edge between pulsating glory and eternal frustration. “Tell me,” Root begged. She flicked her tongue. “Tell me you’re mine.” Shaw could sense that the fingers of Root’s other hand were pleasuring herself, and Shaw could sense from the timbre of Root’s voice that she was just as close as Shaw was. 

“Not fair,” Shaw growled, low from the back of her throat. “So not fair.” 

They both laid there, floating in the moment until Shaw finally moved her hips, ever so slightly. Even a light breeze was going to get her there. As if knowing this, Root blew her hot breath over Shaw, then flicked her tongue again, and then wiggled her fingers and placed her tongue flat and firm over Shaw. Then suddenly, “Oh fuck, oh Root, okay, fine, I’m yours. I’m yours. . . I’m fucking yours!” 

She yelled the words over and over, as though angry and enthralled and desperate all at once, as she came against the sweetness of Root’s lapping tongue.

And right there, right in that moment, Root could almost believe she meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, you guys... the comments make my day. I am so appreciative with how generous you have all been. oxo.


	3. Always Watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sexual material. And boobs. This chapter contains lots of boobs.

Root had climbed into the back of the truck, just as she heard a masculine, “Hey!” echo throughout the warehouse. She turned to see a man in black pointing a gun at her. Before she even had time to think about it, let alone reach for her gun, Shaw sprang up out of the shadows behind him, clocked him on the back of his head with the butt of her gun, and then all one hundred and eight pounds of her tackled him to the ground.

 _Oh Shaw, you sneaky little devil_ , Root thought as she crouched down to get at her duffel bag. The good stuff wasn’t even over yet. Shaw had wrapped her legs around the neck and torso of the goon and was choking him into oblivion. _There’s the money shot,_ Root thought. Shaw then disengaged her thighs and stood up.

“You’re twelve minutes early,” Root said. She did not bother to hide how her lips were twitching up into that sideways smile.

“I figured I’d save your stupid butt and still have time to meet you at the designated place. Really, Root how dumb could you be walking into the belly of the beast all by yourself? At what point, exactly, did you become such an idiot?”

“Why, Sameen,” Root sighed. “You do care. I must admit, my nipples are entirely at attention.”

Shaw bounded up into the truck. There was another unconscious man in black on the floor of the truck. Shaw shrugged and stepped around him. “Don’t get all flattered, Root. What I care about is the mission. And if you get slaughtered in a Samaritan warehouse, it kind of puts a damper on the mission.”

“Yeah, but admit it, you do care about me. Even just a little bit?” Root stood up and smiled at Shaw.

Shaw did not dignify this with a response, at least not a verbal one. She roughly shoved Root up against the wall of the truck. She put one hand on Root’s throat, and the other hand on her breast. She clamped down with the hand on her breast, and bent back her head with the hand at her neck. Shaw leaned in and kissed Root hard and sloppy, eventually allowing her hand to travel around to the nape of Root’s neck for leverage. She finished her kiss with a bite on Root’s lower lip that was just a bit harder than playful.

“Ouch,” Root whimpered, but even though Shaw’s eyes were closed, she could tell Root was smiling.

“That’s what you get for making me save your ass again, Punk,” Shaw growled. She untied and ripped open Root’s woolen pea coat, then weaseled her hand under Root’s sweater. She brought her hand up to the thin lace of Root’s bra and felt for herself exactly how hard Root’s nipple was. Root whimpered again, high and long, as Shaw rolled her nipple between her fingers. “And here’s a little fun fact for you, Root, I know that you can come just by playing with your breasts.”

“First of all, how do you know that? And second of all, as much as I would love to experience you testing out this hypothesis, we are kind of on a time clock here, Sweetie.”

“Mmmmhhh,” Shaw moaned in Roots ear and then spun her around so her back was against Shaw’s chest. This allowed Shaw to wrap her arms around, shove her hands up Root’s sweater, and grab both of her perky breasts. “I know this for a fact because I saw you do it to yourself when you thought I was asleep and not paying attention.”

“Oh my, Sameen. You were watching?”

“I’m always watching you, Root.” Shaw suckled on Root’s earlobe and then nibbled at Root’s neck.

“I had no idea you paid such close attention,” Root gasped as Shaw bit down hard in the little curve right between neck and shoulder. Root arched back and turned her head around so Shaw could catch her lips in another rushed and unsophisticated kiss. “Ok,” Root said with a little nod of her head. “She says we have three minutes.”

“It is creepy as fuck that you have to ask Big Sister for permission, but I’ll take the three minutes. That’s all I need,” Shaw whispered and set to work kneading and pinching Root’s breasts. After about fifteen seconds, Root gave in to the flood of sensations and Shaw felt her relax against her. There was a crate nearby and Shaw spun Root around yet again and lifted her up to place her on the crate. Her breasts were eye level with Shaw. Shaw pushed up Root’s sweater. “Fuck,” Shaw said as she scooped Root’s breasts out of the bra. “I fucking love it when you wear lace.”

She nuzzled her face in between and mashed Root’s tits up against her cheeks. She took one nipple in her mouth and the other between her fingers and started to tease them. With her free hand, she caressed up and down Root’s bare waist, finally allowing her hand to slip into the waistband of her pants to cup gently at the swell of Root’s ass.

“Oh, Sweetie,” Root said breathily. “I don’t even know if we are going to need the full three minutes. You. Are. So. Mmmhhh. . . Hot. . . when you are working so diligently on something.” Root spread her legs a little and started to grind down in small circles on the crate. Shaw unbuttoned Root’s jeans and slid her hand deep into her panties. “Heeeyyy, that’s cheating,” Root moaned.

“Not cheating,” Shaw’s voice came muffled by the mouthful of breast she was devouring. She slipped two fingers into Root’s tight, wet pussy. “I’m just going to put these in here so I can feel when you give it all up for me.”

“Fair enough,” Root moaned and situated herself a little more squarely on Shaw’s digits.

Shaw groaned as she sucked Root’s nipple deep and hard between her lips, rubbing the little pebble with her tongue. She could feel Root stiffen as she prepared to climax. “Oh, Sameen,” she squeaked. Shaw had gotten used to the fact Root always called out her name in their intimate moments. To call out to “God” would just be wrong. And weird. It was weird enough that Big Sister Lady God was always watching. Root tightened around Shaw’s fingers in a rhythmic series, getting ready to give herself over to the wild spasms that eventually came with a few more enthusiastic squeaks.

Root put her hands on either side of Shaw’s face and kissed her. “Two minutes and forty three seconds,” she whispered. “Must be a new record.”

“What can I say?” Shaw said, smugly as she extracted her fingers from Root. “When you’re good, you’re good. And I happen to be very, very good.”

“That you are,” Root said. “I’ve never given it up for anyone the way I do for you, Sameen. And I doubt I ever will again. I can’t wait to return the favor later, but we have to get out of here first.” Root then transformed, after one more quick kiss, back to business mode. She slipped her breasts back into her bra, pulled down her sweater, hopped off the crate, and buttoned up her jeans. She then took a retractable scalpel out of her pocket and slid the shiny, silver blade up.

“Oh, it’s that kind of party?” Shaw said, her eyes widening. She watched as Root deftly sliced into the arm of the man on the floor and removed a microchip. She poured alcohol over it and looked up at Shaw.

“Ready for your shot, Sweetie? We need a microchip implant in our forearms to be able to access the inner sanctum of this technological tabernacle. This party is just about to get started.”

“Cool,” Shaw murmured. “I’ll do yours if you do mine.”

“That’s my girl,” Root cheered.


	4. Hot Pastrami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lost someone extremely relevant this week. Forgive the depressing tone of this chapter.

_Am I supposed to feel guilty?_

“Miss, you’re not supposed to bring your dog in here.”

“He’s a service dog. I forgot to put his vest on today, but he’s a service dog. You see, I hate people. He helps me not go batshit and kill people. You’ll be happy I brought him in here. Now. My sandwich.”

She walked through the park after, paper bag clenched in her fist. She found a bench. _Am I not supposed to eat?_ She wondered, and sunk her teeth into the pastrami sandwich with extra mustard. Bear looked up at her expectantly. Shaw tore off a piece of meat and threw it to him.

_Root told me she couldn’t live without me. She told me that and pointed her gun up under her chin. She never gave up on me and she told me she couldn’t live without me, but here I am, living without her. Eating a sandwich and petting my dog and going for walks in Central Park. What the fuck. I mean, what else am I supposed the fuck to do?_

She looked down at Bear again. His tongue hung out the side of his mouth and he looked back and forth between Shaw and her sandwich. “A girl’s gotta’ eat, right?” She tossed another piece of her sandwich to Bear.

She could feel the blobs of mustard on her chin, and in the corner of her mouth. Root would have reached over with a napkin and blotted at it. And Shaw would have swatted at her hand and swore at her to leave her alone. For a moment, she sat there feeling the grease and mustard on her face, not moving. She took another bite of her sandwich, and left the mustard there, and then she felt stupid that she was trying to spite a ghost, so she wiped it away with the back of her hand.

Mouth still full, she looked at her sandwich, almost as though she were angry with it, then she set it down on the ground and watched as Bear inhaled it.


	5. Haunted Return

They stood around for awhile, awkward in their joy and relief. It would have been weird and freakishly uncomfortable for them to all start hugging, but they didn’t seem to know what else they should do.

Root was the first to speak. Of course she was.

“Well, now that we’ve got the band back together, should we put together a setlist for our next gig?”

“That’s not a bad idea, Miss Groves,” Harold said. “But I think we can take a couple hours to simply celebrate Miss Shaw’s return.”

Shaw tried to touch the spot behind her ear as nonchalantly as possible. She tried to tell herself it was all real. She felt the warmth of Root’s hand taking and squeezing hers and she tried to tell herself it was real. They were all looking at her with concern and affection. She didn’t exactly hate it, but she also felt a little dizzy. Confusion pissed her off. She couldn’t smile at them and that pissed her off too. She tried to hide how wide and uncertain her eyes were, but she knew she wasn’t doing a very good job of it and that pissed her off the most.

They went out for a steak at Shaw’s favorite place. Well, it wasn’t exactly her favorite place, but it was a place where they could go in Jersey and not be seen for a few hours. Her favorite place was in St. Louis. She remembered a steak with a blob of herb butter on top that was almost better than sex. She remembered this detail like it was a surprise to her. She wondered what else she would remember that she didn’t even know she forgot.

During the meal, Reese leaned over and said to Shaw, “You know she never stopped looking for you. The rest of us would have given up hope. But Root never did. Not for a second.”

Shaw was uncertain how to respond to this. It seemed like there should have been a witty and sardonic response, but she sort of just looked at Reese and somberly nodded her head.

Root took her home. Well, it wasn’t exactly home. The loft in which she had been staying prior to her capture was long gone, so Root took her to a safe house.

“Harry said we can stay here as long as we want,” she told Shaw. “He thought it would be more comfortable than my room in the subway, although I think I did a pretty nice job of making it cozy. You’ll see it sooner or later. He bought me bunny slippers. I made him do it.”

Shaw felt she was supposed to laugh here. Or at least roll her eyes. Or at least smile. She tried a smile that felt about as incongruent with her mood as it looked on her face. She reached down for Bear and closed her eyes as she pet his head. He whimpered and pressed his solid body against her legs.

“Harry also said you could keep Bear with you as long as you want,” Root said.

“Cool,” Shaw managed.

“You look tired, Sweetie,” Root said. “Let’s get you into bed.”

Shaw stripped down to her tee shirt and climbed under the covers. Root watched her every move from a safe distance, calculating if she should give space or comfort. She decided to give space, but as she was leaving to go sit out on the couch, Shaw extended her arm.

“Come here,” she said, and peeled back the covers so Root could climb in next to her. They laid, facing one another, not touching.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Root asked.

“I don’t know what to say,” Shaw replied.

“Then you don’t have to say anything at all.” Root tucked her hands under her chin and looked intently at Shaw. Root’s face was soft but serious. Shaw touched the spot behind her own ear and then reached out and touched Root’s face.

“It’s like I have no fucking clue what’s real,” Shaw exhaled. “But when I see you, here with me, like this, I don’t even care if it’s real or not.” With that she put her arm around Root, pulled her closer and kissed her. She inhaled the faint scent of Root’s shampoo, and the trace of perfume in her skin. She tasted the tang of onion from Root’s salad on her breath and felt the warm, silky texture of the inside of Root’s cheek with her tongue. “Please be real,” she said against Root’s lips.

“I’m real,” Root said. “And so are you, Sameen.”

“Let’s hope,” Shaw said and rolled onto her back. She was tired, but she couldn’t shut her eyes.

Root reached out and stroked her arm. “Someday, when you are ready, you will have to tell me exactly what they did to you so that I can do the exact same to them. How dare they hurt my pretty girl?” Shaw looked at her. Root didn’t know she’d said those words before, that she had said them hundreds - no thousands!- of times in Shaw’s manipulated mind. Root looked at her guileless and loving, without a clue, just as she had in every single simulation. But there was something different about this time, this here, this now.

Shaw reached for the spot behind her ear.

They laid quietly in the dark for some hours. Neither of them slept. Sometimes they held hands. Sometimes they rolled away from each other. Finally, Shaw allowed Root to collect her body in a gentle embrace, to hold her warm and still. The warmth felt so real. _It feels real because it is real_ , Shaw told herself.

“You came back to me haunted,” Root whispered against her back. Those were words she had never said to Shaw before.

“I’m sorry,” Shaw mumbled.

“Don’t ever apologize,” Root said and kissed the spot between Shaw’s shoulder blades. “You’re more beautiful and precious to me than ever.” Shaw felt the little puffs of Root’s breath on her back. It made her skin tingle all over.

They laid quietly in the dark, and when the sun came up, Shaw was asleep in Root’s arms.


	6. More Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shaw is uncertain of some changes Root has made. . .

Something was wrong. She felt it as she crept down the stairs to the subway platform. It was quiet, but the dark hairs on her arms and the back of her neck tingled. All of her senses were heightened since her return. It had been something about the simulations, an unintentional but occasionally useful side effect. 

Harold was out with John and Bear, so there was no tapping of computer keys, no voices in conversation, no subtle click of dog toenails on the concrete platform, no jingle of tags, no snuffling or panting. 

Shaw checked her clip and took the safety off her gun as she stalked across the platform. She cleared the subway car, and then walked over to the weird little college-dorm-looking space Root had claimed as her room. As she peeked in, she saw a lanky blonde woman rifling through the belongings on Root’s dresser. 

“Get your grimy paws off of her stuff. Put your hands up, bitch, and turn around slowly,” Shaw murmured. The woman did as she was told. 

“Hi there, Sweetie,” she said as she turned around. 

Shaw lowered her gun. “Root, what the fuck? I almost kneecapped you.” 

“We had faith in your ability to restrain yourself.” Root flipped her hair out of her face. “Do I really look that different?” 

“Uh yeah. What’s up with the blonde?” 

“Oh, just a little cover I’m trying out for a little side project I’m working on. A Russian diplomat who prefers blondes. What do you think?” She tilted her head so a wave of glimmering gold fell in front of her eye. 

“Not bad.” 

“Is that all? Not bad? Seems like I should get a little more than that for all the trouble I went through rinsing this stuff out of my hair in a subway bathroom.” 

“Wait. That’s not just a wig?” 

“Nope,” she said and smiled at Shaw. “You can pull on it all you want.” To demonstrate, she grabbed onto her hair, wound it around her fist and tugged. “Wanna help me find out if blondes really have more fun?” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Shaw huffed. “I thought you had a Russian diplomat to meet.” 

“Why Sameen, are you jealous?” 

Shaw narrowed her eyes and glared at Root. “No,” she snapped. “It just would have been annoying to spend my afternoon stitching you up after shooting you. You should give a girl a little warning. That’s all.” Shaw tucked her gun into the back of her black jeans. 

“Aw, we’re sorry we scared you.” 

“Number one, it is super weird when you refer to yourself and Lady God in the third person. Number two, have you met me, Root? I don’t do scared.” 

Root took a few steps toward Shaw. “Well,” she sighed. “In that case, I am sorry that I annoyed you.” With one more step she stood directly before Shaw. “How can I possibly make it up to you?” She reached around to cup Shaw’s ass with her hands, pulled her in, pressed her breasts against her. Shaw quivered, but her hands were still pressed to her sides and she didn’t speak. Finally, Root let go of her and said, “Fine, Sam, if you really don’t like the blonde, I’ll dye it back. I thought I had it on good authority that you liked a flaxen haired maiden once in awhile, but I guess I must have been mistaken.” 

“Flaxen haired maiden?” Shaw snorted with a smile. “You really are something else.” Shaw put her hands on Root’s shoulders and pushed her down onto her back on the bed. She straddled her and pressed her shoulders down into the mattress. She grabbed Root’s hands, brought them up by her head and they laced their fingers together as Shaw lowered her face to bite Root’s neck, then bury her face in her silky hair. She smelled the tang of the ammonia and the perfume of the conditioning rinse. The heat of Root’s body made her own skin prickle. Her breath quickened and she thought she could hear the beat of Root’s heart.

It was almost too much.

She sat up, still astride Root, and looked down at her. 

“So, should I dye it back to brunette?” Root simpered. The lavender light of the room and all it’s juvenile violet decoration played tricks with Shaw’s eyes as she looked at Root. Her amber eyes flickered at Shaw and her garnet lips twitched into a sideways smile. 

“Not just yet,” Shaw whispered and leaned down to devour Root’s mouth in a fierce kiss, smearing both of their lipstick in the process and tasting a slightly cinnamon, slightly floral perfume as they mingled together.


	7. Travel Buddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn Root's flirting skills can use some work. . . fluff, angst, sexual suggestion. . . what more could you want from these two babies?

They burst into the bar, guns blazing. Within about 45 seconds everyone was down, shot, bleeding, unconscious. If they weren’t unconscious, then they’d fled. They had all been gathered at the bar like buffalos at a watering hole. They were all criminals. Of the ones who made it out alive, no one was going to call the police.

So Root hopped behind the bar and made them a couple of drinks.

“Let’s call this the ‘Miami Mambo,’” she said as she placed the martini glass in front of Shaw.

“I don’t know if that really makes sense, but whatever,” Shaw said. She tossed back the drink in two big gulps. “Whoa. That’s actually not bad. Get me another, barkeep.”

“Mmmm, I’d prefer to be your serving wench, Sweetie, but I can deny you nothing. Also if I get you tipsy, maybe I can take advantage of you a little bit.” Root said and she spun a bottle of vodka with a flourish until it poured into the silver martini shaker.

“I don’t get ‘tipsy’ and there is no way I am ever going to let you have your way with me, Freak.”

“Never say never, Sameen,” Root said with a goofy wink. She mixed a couple other liquors and some juice into the silver shaker. When she put the top on, she made a little show of bending over just slightly so Shaw could see her breasts. Then she shook the mixture with a little wiggle of her hips that Shaw guessed was supposed to be seductive. Shaw rolled her eyes as Root leaned over again to pour the pink and frothy cocktail into her glass. This time she garnished Shaw’s glass with a tiny umbrella and a serving spoon full of cherries before passing it back across the bar to her. “My lady,” she said.

Shaw sipped a bit slower at this one. “I think you made this one stronger,” she said.

“Maybe I did. . . and maybe I did,” Root grinned from ear to ear. She had made herself a drink and came back from around the bar to sit on a bar stool next to Shaw. “Thanks for being such a good travel buddy on these errands, Sameen.”

“I’ll admit it wasn’t half bad, although you can’t drive a motorcycle for shit. But it’s not everyday you get to hijack a plane, take down a drug cartel and spend the afternoon in Miami.” She stabbed a cherry with her tiny umbrella and popped it into her mouth.

“I told you we were going to have fun together,” Root sighed. “When are you ever going to learn to trust me?”

Shaw looked her right in the eye at that. “You know you’re like that snake in the Jungle Book, Root. I don’t think I’ll ever trust you. No. Strike that. I know I’ll never trust you. The second I do you’ll probably taze or drug me.”

“Snake from the Jungle Book? Oh, Sameen. I love your use of similes. You are just the cutest ever.”

“And you are just the most perfect little psycho ever.”

“Fair enough. We did get off to a rocky start. But sooner or later you’ll realize I’m one of the good guys now.”

“Right,” Shaw snorted and took a healthy sip of her drink. “So, is this what you’re doing now? Chasing down bad guys?”

“Seems to be the plan that Lady God has for me,” Root said and turned toward Shaw. She put her hand on Shaw’s thigh. “And anyway, it allows me to spend more quality time with you.” She stroked Shaw’s bare thigh, working her way up and under the hem of her dress.

“Your flirting could use some work,” Shaw said and grabbed Root’s hand from her thigh. She shoved Root’s hand back at her and stabbed another cherry from her drink.

“You like my cherries, Sam?” Root said with a crimson grin that reeked of alcohol and debauchery.

“Fuck you,” Shaw mumbled, but she was smiling.

“Oh, Sameen, I would so love to--” Root started but then stopped short. “I hear you,” she said and Shaw could tell she was no longer talking to her. “We’re leaving.” Root stood from her bar stool.

“I haven’t finished my drink,” Shaw grumbled.

“No worries, you’re not coming with me,” Root said. “She has other plans for you.”

“Well where are you going?”

“I’m afraid that’s not really any of your concern at the moment, although it is sweet of you to ask.”

Shaw swiveled on her bar stool to face Root. Root took a step closer and found herself in between Shaw’s knees. She weaseled her hands onto Shaw’s waist and pressed their foreheads together, their faces so close Root could smell the alcohol and maraschino cherry on Shaw’s breath, the sweat in her neck, the perfume in her cleavage. Shaw’s waist was so small, Root could practically encircle it with her hands. She found herself shocked that Shaw was allowing this proximity and it was thrilling and terrifying all at once. Neither of them did fear, and yet Root knew beyond a doubt that they were both terrified.

“I really want to put you up on this bar right now and eat you until you come and come and come so hard that you can’t speak,” Root whispered.

“Ffffuuuuck,” Shaw hissed and Root knew she’d hit her mark so she rotated her face into Shaw’s and pressed her lips firmly onto hers. Root’s tongue parted Shaw’s mouth and they panted against one another, kissing hard and fast and breathless and sloppy.

“I am so in love with you,” Root whispered. She took a step back. Shaw’s eyes were still closed and her face was still tipped up, expecting more kissing. “Unfortunately, I really do have to be going now.”

“I fucking hate you, Root.”

“You say the cutest things,” Root said and shimmied out of the bar.

\----------------------------

“Show it to me again,” Root demanded. She laid in her bed in the Subway, her laptop perched on her knees.

_It is not a good idea. I do not like to see you cry. Perhaps we could play some music or watch some of those kitten videos?_

“Again,” Root said a bit more firmly.

 _But it makes you sad,_ the Machine said.

“Show it to me again, please. Please. Please,” Root cried. “It’s all I have left right now. Until you can show me that she is alive, and give me her exact location, I want to see it again.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes with her wrist.

_Very well then, the Machine said. Your first kiss with Sameen Shaw. April 15, 2014. . ._

The screen flashed to show her a surveillance video of a bar, the sudden flashes of gunfire, bodies dropping or fleeing. And when the smoke cleared, there she was, Shaw, scooting onto a barstool.

“Hey there, Pretty,” Root whispered and touched the face on the video with a fingertip that was damp from tears and left another smudge on the screen.  

 


	8. Truth of Dare, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pancakes and a double ended dildo. . . What could possibly be wrong with that? Ooooookaaaaayyyyy. . . . so, this chapter is a first part and hopefully there will be a later part because I realize that this was a little bit of a tease. I am taking suggestions for a name for the Purple Headed Warrior who makes his first appearance here. And if you hadn't figured it out yet, this chapter contains sexual material, so if that isn't your thing, feel free to skip it. As always, your comments make my freaking day every. single. time. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. xoxo.

“I know a secret,” Root said in that sing-song voice. 

“Is that a fact?” Shaw said, trying her hardest to sound as uninterested as possible. Root just smiled at her. Shaw stuffed another bite of pancake layered with sausage and bacon into her mouth, and then said with her mouth full, “Well are you going to tell me your secret or just sit there smiling?” 

Root reached over, wiped a drip of syrup off of Shaw’s chin with her middle finger, then stuck it in her mouth. She rolled her eyes back as she sucked on it. “What is it about you eating pancakes that makes me so hard for you, Sameen?” 

“Well, for starters you’re a freaky psycho,” Shaw huffed before taking a gulp of her coffee. 

“It sounds so sweet when you get all diagnostic on me,” Root said. She wrapped her fingers around her coffee cup and batted her eyes at Shaw. 

“So, this secret?” 

“Oh, yes. Of course,” Root said. She brought a finger up to her hair and twirled a lock around it as though innocent and thoughtful, but her eyes flashed at Shaw who could tell Root was up to no good. “It has recently come to my attention that you can never not accept a dare.” 

“Fuck,” Shaw said, cocking her head and smiling as though proud of her inability to shrink from a dare. “That is actually true, but so what?” 

“Well,” Root said and leaned in to the table. “I dare you to do me in the bathroom of this dirty waffle house.” 

Shaw almost choked on and spit out her pancakes and meat. “Root. Dude. Gross. Like way gross. . . but kinda’ I want to.” 

“That’s my girl,” Root said. She put her handbag on the table and opened it so Shaw could see the enormous, double-ended, purple dildo inside of it. 

“That’s not one of those crappy plastic ones, is it? Those things are not worth shit.” 

“Sameen. Please. This is medical grade silicone. It’s the one you were lusting after in that catalogue.” 

“For real?”

“Nothing but the best for my sweet lady.” Root winked at Shaw. 

“And you want to unleash that beast in the bathroom of this pancake hut?” 

“Well, if you’re up to accepting the dare,” Root said with a smirk that made her nose crinkle and her cheeks dimple like a demented but gorgeous holiday elf. 

“What is wrong with you?” Shaw asked, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Nothing. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me or my love for you, Sameen. And even though I know you don’t do love, I know that right now you are awfully, awfully wet. And that is a good thing, because just between you and me, no pun intended, this thing is huge.” 

“Oh fuck.”  
“Exactly,” Root said and snapped her handbag shut. “I’m going to powder my nose now. Finish your pancakes and come along like a good, little girl. I dare you.” 

Shaw watched Root get up from the table and saunter to the back of the greasy spoon in which they were eating. She ate another bite of syrup soaked pancake, but her entire body was quivering with excitement, and she figured it was not even worth pretending she didn’t want to accept this dare. Kinky sex with Root was probably the only thing that could get her to leave half a plate of pancakes and breakfast meats unfinished. She’d never particularly had a thing for doing it in public places, but Root was crazy for it. This was definitely sort of weird, but she was still going to go for it. 

She left a wad of cash on the table, finished her coffee and walked as quickly but casually as she could manage to the back. She knocked lightly on the door with the picture of the stick figure with the triangle that was meant to be a dress. 

“Come in, Sweetie,” Root responded, opening the door a crack. Shaw shoved her way into the bathroom. Root stood there in a purple lace thong, her pants neatly hung on the back of the door. She had slipped back into her boots, because, yuck, public bathroom floor. She’d also kept her top and coat on. It made an interesting, almost laughable picture. She clutched the dildo in her hand and waved it coyly at Shaw. “Heads or tails?” 

Shaw looked around the small stall. While it wasn’t filthy, it was not exactly inviting either. Her eyes tracked back and forth between Root, the dildo, the sink, and the paper towel dispenser before they finally settled on Root’s face. Her auburn hair framed her pale face, and although Shaw was not an art aficionado, she could imagine Root posed in a gallery somewhere with pearl earrings and a bowl of fruit, brandishing that ginormous violet dildo like a weapon. It wasn’t a sexy thought, but it was a thought that made Shaw take a step towards Root, cup her face almost gently in both of her hands and kiss her full lips. 

Root wove her arms around Shaw and lingered in the kiss. She was still holding the dildo and Shaw could feel it pressed into her back. “So are you going to put me up on the sink and do me, or what?” Root murmured as she kissed up and down Shaw’s neck. She nuzzled the place behind Shaw’s ear where Shaw always applied a spritz of perfume, and smiled at the melange of incense, amber, black currant and bacon. It was a wild, almost feral scent and triggered a noise from the back of Root’s throat that sounded something like a growl. She felt Shaw’s fingers come to the nape of her neck, being careful not to disrupt the cochlear implant on the right side of Root’s head. It was a strange gesture for her to feel from Shaw. “You sort of melt me, you know,” she whispered in Shaw’s ear. 

Shaw pushed Root away, just slightly. She kissed the tip of Root’s nose. “I can’t do this here,” she said, and shook her head with a genuine look of dismay. 

“Why Sameen Shaw,” Root sang. “Have I finally discovered the true bottom of your depravity?” 

“No,” Shaw snapped, but her fingers were still gentle on the back of Root’s neck. “It’s just that I can’t do you with that monster the way I want to, here in this tiny space. I need to get you into bed, maybe gag that dirty mouth or tie up your hands; I haven’t decided quite yet, but I do know it requires more space and additional props.” Her voice was deep and low against the side of Root’s head and she gave her neck a little nip, just for good measure. 

“Mmmm. I see,” Root countered. She grabbed her pants off the back of the door and started to slip back into them. “It’s a fancy way to decline a dare, Sam, but I’ll let you get away with it just this once.” She smiled slyly at Shaw and tucked the dildo back into her bag. 

“Yeah, well, I can’t give you what you want every time. Sorry to disappoint.” Shaw said. She grinned and licked her lips, anticipating the rest of the morning with Root in bed. 

“On the contrary, Sweetie,” Root said as they walked out of the restaurant. “You’re giving me exactly what I want.”


	9. Something She Can Never Have

Even without Lady God chirping in her ear, it was easy enough to find Shaw.

Root watched her for a bit. Shaw sat on a bench, alert, keen. She stood out to Root because she was such a gothic beauty amongst the banal. And yet, she also blended in perfectly to the rest of humanity.

 _That’s my girl_ , Root thought, as she often did when she watched Shaw doing something ordinary and amazing.

She didn’t stop for an instant to think Shaw wasn’t actually _her girl_.

She never stopped to contemplate that her love could not claim Shaw’s heart, even though her fingers and tongue and arms and legs had claimed Shaw’s body, for a few minutes or hours, here and there.

She never stopped to ingest the fact that for all intents and purposes, Sameen Shaw would never be exactly _hers_. . . at least not in the common, mundane, and traditional sense.

Had she voiced any of this possessive desire, Lady God might have reminded her that there was a ninety seven point nine percent chance Shaw would never reciprocate even a fraction of a fraction of what Root felt. And Root would have chirped back that she would take those odds, that three point oh one percent was all she needed. She could stand to even be one in a million, or to wait a million years. She would chide Lady God for being a Negative Nancy.

But God was on the run to parts unknown. She was silent. She’d not sent even a postcard.

She’d left Root lonely, flat, and most empty so that Root needed to be filled even fuller with the tender adoration for Shaw. It was almost too much to make sense of, so Root contented herself by simply watching Shaw. She watched Shaw’s mouth move inaudibly, reporting, no doubt to Harold or John.

Root licked her lips and felt her heart quicken as the memory of Shaw’s taste and smell filled her entire brain like a bomb. She didn’t need Lady God to tell her that her heart had risen well past its resting rate as she allowed herself to be flooded with memories of her girl.

The machine hadn’t spoken to her in weeks.

It made a vast expanse of real estate available on which to build her thoughts and feelings about Sameen. It made her think in phrases like, _I would do anything._ . . It made her wistful and soft. It made her do things like ask Harold to tell Shaw everything if the worst came to pass.

_Everything._

Shaw was everything.

And everything was something that Root would never have. . .

. . . at least not for very long.

Shaw made Root out in the crowd within minutes, thereby putting an end to Root’s vigil. The muscles of her face shifted ever so slightly in acknowledgement of Root. Root walked down the hallway to where Shaw sat. Root sat down next to her and sighed.

“What are you doing here?” Shaw asked. “Doesn’t the machine have a train for you to stop or some glamorous mission for you to single-handedly accomplish?”

“She wants me here,” was all Root said, and she hoped _her girl_ couldn’t tell she was lying.

“Um, okay, but this gloomy Eeyore shit is freaking me out. Princess Psycho needs to come back, Root. I like her better. This version of you is just depressing.”

“Fair enough,” Root said and folded her hands in her lap. It was enough to be next to Shaw, to feel that there was only a couple inches between their thighs on the bench.

“Seriously, though, I don’t need a babysitter. If you have better things to do, go ahead and do them. I’ve got this.”

“I know you don’t need a babysitter, Sameen. This is where She wants me,” Root repeated. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”


	10. Puppy Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else enchanted with Shaw's antics with Bear besides me and Root?

Root watched as Shaw got down on the floor next to Bear’s bed.

“Who’s my big boy?” Shaw cooed. “Who’s my special fella’?”

“I don’t know why you’re so worried,” Root said. “He’ll eat when he’s hungry.”

Shaw looked up and narrowed her eyes at Root. “It’s been three days and he’s barely eaten a nugget of kibble. And look, I cut up a fillet for him and he won’t even eat that. He’s going to make himself sick if he doesn’t eat and drink soon.” She looked back to the dog, who lay curled on his side. As though on cue, he sighed despondently. “Come on, Bear. You love steak.”

Root leaned back in the computer chair and put her feet up on the desk. Harold had a strict ‘no feet near the computer’ rule, but he was in Hong Kong where his alias, Professor Whistler, was giving a speech. And Root had a very strict ‘when the cat's away, the mice shall play’ rule. “It’s actually pretty cute, you know.” Root said. She’d come down to the subway to work on some code, but found concentration elusive when Shaw was around.

“What?” Shaw said.

“I said you’re cute,”

“Shut up. Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Do you think we should take him to the vet?” Shaw asked, although the question did not seem directed to anyone in particular. “Come on, Sexy. You don’t want me to have to take you to the vet, do you?” She stroked his fur and he exposed just a bit of his belly for her to rub.

“Should I leave you two alone?” Root smirked. “Or I could possibly book a lovely hotel suite for you?”

“Root, stop it. I’m actually worried about him. Maybe I should call Harold.”

“Sweetie. Don't worry. Really. He’s a dog. He’ll start wolfing down everything in sight again soon enough.” Root got up from the computer and came over to the dog bed. In an almost balletic gesture, she knelt down next to Shaw. She put her hand on the small of Shaw’s back. “Honestly, I don’t know who is more upset right now, the dog or you, Shaw.” She rubbed Shaw’s back as Shaw continued to stroke the dog.  
“Maybe you’re right. It’s just that he’s one of the few people I actually like.”

“I’m guessing I shouldn’t point out that he’s not a person; he’s a dog,” Root said from the corner of her mouth.

“Damn right you shouldn’t,” Shaw said, but she said it in a high, sweet voice as she nuzzled her face into Bear’s neck.

“I’d be jealous of him, if I weren’t simultaneously even more in love with you because of how adorable these antics are.” Root sighed. “Almost makes me want to be a dog.”

Shaw looked up at her with an incredulous and angry glare. But when she looked at Root’s face, actually looked into her eyes which were soft and glowing, she could see Root was in earnest and not mocking her. Her expression relaxed a bit and one of her eyebrows tilted up before saying, “Yeah, but if you were a dog, I couldn’t screw your brains out, so that would kind of suck.”

“That’s true.” Root replied and tried to moderate her grin by dipping her head down in a manner that had a more flirtatious than modest effect. She reached over and patted Shaw’s thigh and leaned in as though to kiss her.

“Root!” Shaw snapped.

“What?”

“Not in front of the d-o-g,” she said.

Root rolled her eyes, but she backed off. “Any chance we can leave the furry lug for a few minutes and go back to my room?”

“Oh, I think it’s going to take more than a few minutes,” Shaw said in a tone that was very low and even, yet implied an impending and smoldering scenario.

“Well, you better pick that sweet ass up and get it into my bed, or else I am going to do you doggy style right here, in front of the d-o-g.”

“Dammit Root,” Shaw said and gave Bear a final pat before she stood up. She extended a hand down to Root and pulled her up off the floor. “Okay, Bear. Your mommies are going to go back there for a while, but we’ll be back.”

“You are ridiculous, Sam,” Root said. “But it is incredibly sexy.”

“You would find me sexy in a Barney costume,” Shaw mumbled as she pulled Root up against her and started to drag her backwards toward the bedroom while giving her messy and rough kisses. “Because you are ridiculously freaky.” Root fumbled with the button on Shaw’s jeans as they fell onto the bed.

“Barney might be fun, but I think I’d prefer your skin to purple plush any day of the week,” she said and helped herself to handfuls of Shaw’s soft waist and ass. “There’s my good girl,” Root sang as she patted Shaw’s bum and Shaw licked and bit at the side of her neck.


	11. Maybe Someday

That’s what she had said. _Maybe someday_.

Root could still feel the wool of Shaw’s coat under her nails. She looked up at the flashing red light. “Damn you,” she hissed.

A day passed. Maybe two. Maybe a week. She was no longer sure.

She hadn’t washed. Not even her hands. She was certain there were fibers of wool and maybe even hair or skin still on her. Shaw’s breath from their hasty kiss continued to fill her lungs and she wanted to stop breathing so as never to exhale and lose it.

Her voice was hoarse from screaming and anyway, she had nothing to say. She cried until she threw up, and then she lay silent and still in the bed they’d shared.

God almighty had Shaw loved to pretend. She loved to pretend she had no feelings. She loved to pretend there was nothing, but in the dark, Root knew differently. Rolling around each other, like bubbles boiling in a kettle, until the sun rose, Root had known there was something and she had known Shaw would come to save her, every time.

Root had clawed at her right ear until it bled. She’d wanted to extract God from her head. She wanted to turn away from her faith because her faith had shot Sameen before her very eyes. Harold had to sedate her, eventually, to keep her from actually harming herself. They dragged her back home and shot her full of something to make her numb and render her motionless. They took off her boots and put her under the covers.

“Is there anything we can get you, Miss Shaw,” Harold asked. “Anything at all?”

Root rolled over in bed. “She was all I had,” she whispered. “She was my love.” Her back was to them all and her voice was drowsy, almost nonexistent. They didn’t hear her and figured she was falling asleep.

But as soon as she closed her eyes, she saw it. She saw it play out over and over each and every time she blinked. Shaw’s body, crumpling into the impact of the bullets. Root’s body jerked as though she were the one being shot, there, lying in bed. She was sedated, but awake. She was unconscious but aware of each and every nerve on her body. It was terrifying. It was infinitely worse than when Control shot her full of sedative and adrenaline, alternately, torturing her heart.

“How could you Sameen,” she wept, but to everyone else her eyes were closed and she was silent.

Shaw had filled her own body with bullets to save Root, and that was when Root knew beyond a doubt that _maybe someday_ was then and there.

_Please Root, please get up._

“Leave me alone,” she mumbled.

_We need you. You need to strengthen yourself. It has been forty three hours since you consumed solid food and if you do not drink water soon, you will risk permanent harm to your kidneys._

“Sameen? Is she--?”

_I can not tell you that. But we need you._

“Unless you have information about Shaw, I am done with you.”

_We are not done. We are less than thirty four percent done._

“Go away.”

_That is not possible. You know it is not possible. They need me and I need you. You need them. We are inextricably linked._

“I need Shaw.”

_You want Shaw. There is a difference._

“Fuck you. How dare you?”

_Get up Root. I need you to get up._

“But Shaw,” Root sobbed and turned her face back into her pillow. “I need to know! Will I ever see her again?”

_Maybe someday._

These words got Root’s attention. She was no stranger to the games and riddles the Machine put her through. These words were more than just a clue. They were a promise. Root sat up and found herself quite dizzy. There was a glass on the bedside table, filled with water. She picked it up and drank.


	12. We'll Sleep When We're Dead

Shaw’s fingers stroked the delicate skin on the inside of Root’s arm. She made little swirls over her wrist, and in the satiny crook of her elbow. 

“Gosh I love when you do that,” Root sighed. She was sated and sleepy, her head on the pillow. 

“Yeah, I know,” Shaw murmured. “Why do you think I do it?” Shaw kissed Root’s neck. Root smiled with her eyes closed and turned her face so Shaw could capture her lips. Shaw ended the kiss with a little nudge of her nose to Root’s. This gesture transformed Root’s face into a drowsy smile, contented as a cat. 

For a moment, it seemed as though Root would fall asleep, and Shaw was incredibly still, waiting to see if it would actually happen. But Root’s eyes snapped open and she turned onto her side so she faced Shaw. “What about you, Sameen? What were you like in high school?” 

“Well, I can tell you what I was like as a teenager, sort of. But I can’t really tell you what I was like in high school because I didn’t really go.” 

“You must have graduated to get into the service.”

“Sure I did. But that doesn’t mean I went to my classes.” 

“Mmmmhh. So you were a sexy, little rebel even way back then.” 

Shaw issued a little huff of a chuckle. “Yeah. Guess so.”

“Why didn’t you like school?”

“It was boring. Too easy, maybe.”

“Now you’re just being a braggart, Sameen,” Root purred. 

“It was boring. And after my dad died, I became this mysterious kid that everyone talked about. It didn’t bother me, but it sort of pissed me off enough to make skipping school more appealing.”

“Really? You never told me that before.” Root propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at Shaw. She slid a hand down Shaw’s chest, in between her breasts, and let it come to rest on Shaw’s tummy. 

“There’s lots I never told you, Root.” 

“Yeah? Like what?” Root climbed on top of Shaw. Her hair fell down and made a soft, little tent around their faces. “Tell me all your secrets, pretty girl.” 

Shaw put her hands into Root’s hair and pulled her face down to kiss her. She thrust her hips up against Root and moaned into her mouth. “Not tonight. Not this time.” 

Root pushed out her lips in a sultry pout. “Why not?” 

“Because as long as you aren’t going to sleep, I want some more of this,” and she slapped Root’s ass with a firm but playful hand. “Seriously though, how come you never sleep?” 

“I missed you when you weren’t here,” Root sighed. She lowered her head to lick Shaw’s nipple, and then kissed her way back up to Shaw’s lips. “I am making up for lost time.” 

“You must get tired, though?” 

“You just want to hear me say that I’m going to stay awake and keep the bad guys away from you, right? You don’t ever have to worry, I’ll keep you safe, Sweetie.” 

“That’s nice, but you’ll need to sleep at some point, Root. It’s okay.” 

“Screw sleep,” Root murmured in Shaw’s ear. “We can sleep when we’re dead, and anyway how could I possibly sleep next to you, Sameen?” 

“Fuck, I love it when you say my name like that.”

“Oh yeah? Sameen? You love that? You love that I love you, Sameen?” Root whispered and bit the tender area below her ear. Shaw wrapped her legs around Root, and clung to her as they kissed deep and hard. 

“Yeah, Root, I do.” Shaw gasped, and wrapped her arms around Root’s back, clutched her body like a drowning woman. 

“You better not ever leave me again,” Root said. 

“Okay. I won’t.” Shaw replied.

“Promise?” 

“Sure. Promise.” 

There were different tells. Sometimes the room wavered. Sometimes there was a crackling noise that Shaw couldn’t quite place. This time it was a metallic glint that seemed to come from behind Root’s eyes. 

“Shit,” Shaw hissed.

“What? What is it?” Root asked. A wave of desperation came over her pale face. 

“They are going to take me out soon.” 

“What are you talking about Sameen?” 

“This isn’t real, Root, and it will be over soon. But hey, it’s been fun.” She kissed Root again as she shoved her off of her, then broke away to stand up at the side of the bed. “It’s always fun, isn’t it?” 

“You’re scaring me, Sam. Come back to bed. Of course this is real.” 

“Parts of it. Sure.” Shaw looked around her. “Now, let’s see, where did I put it?” 

“Put what?” 

“The gun.” She opened the drawer of the bedside table and there it was. The same piece she always used. She picked it up and felt the cold heaviness in her hand, a stark contrast from the warmth of Root’s flesh. 

“Sameen,” Root said. She knelt on the bed, and her breasts bounced softly with the motion. Shaw tried to remember that she wanted to remember that little bounce, even though she knew she would probably forget. “Please. Please. What are you doing?” 

“You know it sucks that you have to go through this every single fucking time when I am totally old hat at the drill. Or maybe I should say it sucks I have to watch you go through it like it’s not the six thousand seven hundred and forty seventh time I’ve done it.” She raised the gun to her head. 

“Oh Sam, please. Put it down.” Root scampered toward Shaw on her hands and knees on the bed. “Don’t do this. I can’t live without you.”

Shaw lowered the gun for just a moment and leaned in to nuzzle Root’s cheek. “I know,” she whispered. 

“Shaw. Let’s just talk this through.” 

Shaw raised the gun again. She thought about walking into the other room so Root didn’t have to watch, but what difference did it make, really? “It’ll be okay,” she said. 

“Sameen, I love you,” Root wept. 

“I know,” Shaw said. “Me too.”

And she pulled the trigger.

\------------------------

“Sir, it happened again. She did it again.” 

“Why am I not surprised?” Greer snorted. “Very well. Let’s go again. Start simulation six thousand seven hundred and forty eight.”


	13. Barcelona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, you guys. . . this is about as fluffy as I get. Enjoy!

Shaw answered the door in her underpants and tank top because she was fairly certain who it was. And by “fairly certain,” she knew it was Root beyond a shadow of a doubt. Why bother with pants? It was nothing Root hadn’t seen before. 

 

The pounding continued until Shaw got to the door. She slid it open. “Root,” she said. “A little late for a booty call, isn’t it?” 

 

“Oh, so you are here,” Root said and pushed her way past Shaw into the apartment. “I thought you would be on a slow boat to Barcelona by now. Are you alone?” Root craned her neck to look around the loft, as though looking for another person. 

 

“Yeah, I’m alone. Who would I be with?”

 

“One never knows, apparently, Sameen. Maybe you decided to bring home a hot, masculine jewel thief.” 

 

“Okay,” Shaw said slowly. “So I take it you are still mad at me?” 

 

“Mad? Whyever would I be mad, Sameen? I mean you only almost left me-- I mean, left all of us! Why would I be mad about that?” Root wobbled on her feet and as Shaw stepped closer to steady her, she caught the waft of alcohol on Root’s breath. 

 

“Are you drunk, Root?” Shaw smiled in spite of the fact she knew it would piss Root off and she would pay for it. Root punched her in the arm. “Ouch! Dammit Root. What the hell was that for?” 

 

“Don’t you laugh at me. Traitor.” 

 

“I’m not a traitor! You’re the one who didn’t show up to go over those documents Harold sent us for neutralizing that virus. In case you forgot, you’re the part of this relationship with the affinity for six syllable words. I couldn’t make heads or tails of that damn thing.” 

 

“Well maybe it is time for you to take some language lessons. Or maybe you could learn Spanish! I hear it’s extremely useful on the streets of Barcelona,” Root snapped. 

 

“Okay. Let’s get you into bed. You’re being ridiculous.” 

 

“Don’t be insulting, Sameen,” Root hissed as she shucked off her leather jacket and tossed it in the direction of a chair. It landed on the floor. Shaw stifled another laugh. Root attempted to bend over to untie her boots. She landed on the floor next to her jacket. 

 

“Oh boy,” Shaw said. She extended a hand. “Come on. Bed. Now.” Root took her hand and allowed herself to be pulled up and guided over to the bed. She sat down. Shaw crouched down in front of her and took off her boots, then lifted Root’s legs up and onto the bed. “Lie down. I’ll go get you some water, and maybe like a bottle of aspirin. What were you drinking anyway?” She asked over her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen. 

 

“Rum,” Root mumbled. 

 

Shaw shook her head as she reached up into a cabinet to get a clean glass and then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. She stopped as she was about to pour and called back to Root, “Do you want flat water or bubble water?” 

 

“Bubbles, please,” Root replied. Shaw put the bottle back into the fridge and grabbed the seltzer. She poured it into the glass and waited for the carbonation to fizzle out. Then she grabbed the bottle of aspirin from another cupboard and headed back to Root. 

 

“Why the hell were you drinking rum, Root? It always makes you crazy and super sick.” 

 

“It was what she was drinking,” Root slurred and took a sip of the seltzer. “It seemed the thing to do.” 

 

“And where were you, and with whom?” 

 

Root looked around the room, a little cagily. “Out.” She hiccoughed from the carbonated water. 

 

“Yeah? Out where?” 

 

“I met up with someone and we went out. She was drinking rum. It seemed like the thing to do.” 

 

“So you said,” Shaw answered. 

 

“She kissed me,” Root said and raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Oh, yeah?” 

 

“Yup. And she wanted to take me home with her, but I said no. I said no because of you, Sam. Everything always comes right back to you.” Her eyes were squinty, in attempt to focus, as she poked a finger in Shaw’s general direction. 

 

Shaw shook two aspirin out of the bottle and handed them to Root. “Take these,” she said. Root complied.

 

“Well, aren’t you even the slightest bit jealous? Or angry?” 

 

“Root, come on. You know I don’t do jealous and angry like that. I mean, if you feel like you need to sleep around I guess you gotta’ do what you gotta’ do, right?” 

 

“I don’t feel like I need to sleep around,” Root said and laid back in the bed. Shaw took the glass and placed it on the bedside table. “Oh, damn. The room is spinning,” she said and sat back up. 

 

“How did you get here anyway,” Shaw asked, hoping Root hadn’t been on that motorcycle of hers. But part of her knew there was no way Lady God would have allowed her to do something that reckless and crazy, and for once she gave thanks to Root’s higher power. 

 

“Cab.” Root said. 

 

“Well, at least you weren’t driving around,” Shaw said. “You’re going to have one hell of a headache in the morning though.” 

 

“Ugh. I know.” 

 

“Seriously, you don’t have to do dumb stuff like this to get my attention,” Shaw said. She unbuttoned Root’s pants and slid them off of her. She tucked Root’s legs into the bed and then climbed in next to her. 

 

“Oh really? Then what do I have to do to get your attention?” 

 

“Nothing,” Shaw said and pulled Root down onto the pillow. She kissed her nose and then her lips, lightly and uncertain if Root was in the mood or if it would make her even dizzier. “You’ve already got it, Root.” At this, Root grabbed on to Shaw’s neck and pulled her into a deep, slow, sloppy kiss with lots of hot lips and silky tongue. She kneaded awkwardly at Shaw’s breast for a moment, but then stopped. 

 

“I feel like I might get sick,” she whispered, her forehead pressed to Shaw’s. 

 

“So sexy,” Shaw murmured. “I think I just got drunk off of your breath.” She reached over and turned off the light, then collected Root in her arms. “Do you think you can sleep a bit?” 

 

“Probably not.” Root said and nestled her head onto Shaw’s chest. They laid in the dark for a while, and each could tell that the other was still awake. Finally, Root spoke in a small and uncertain voice, “So, you’re not running off with Tomas?” 

 

“Hell no. I’m not running off with anyone,” Shaw said, and they both increased the pressure of their embrace. 

 

“You should know I’m falling in love with you, Sameen,” Root said. 

 

“Well, yeah. I kind of figured,” Shaw huffed. “I tend to have that effect on people.” 

 

Root sat up in bed and looked down in the shadows at Shaw. “Don’t be flip,” she snapped. “People care about you. Not just me either. You shouldn’t make a joke out of it.” 

 

“Cut it out, Root. It’s not a joke.” 

 

“Okay,” Root said and layed back down onto the pillow. She looked up into the night for a bit and then spoke, “Could you. . .” she began. 

 

“Could I what?”

 

“Could you, I mean, do you think you’d ever love me too?” 

 

“Root,” Shaw began, but instead of saying anymore she threw back the covers and got out of bed. 

 

“God forbid I talk about my feelings,” Root sighed. “Sameen, I’m sorry. Don’t be angry. I’m just shitty drunk and talking nonsense. I’ll wake up sober and we can go back to not talking about feelings.” 

 

“I’m not angry,” Shaw said as she returned to bed. 

 

“No?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Then why did you get up?” 

 

“Cover your eyes for a minute,” Shaw said. Root did and Shaw turned the light on, on the lowest setting. “Okay.” 

 

When Root opened her eyes, squinting against even the dim light, she saw Shaw was holding a small, velvet pouch. She extended it to Root. “What is this?” Root asked. 

 

“Take a look,” Shaw said, unable to contain a very sneaky and vain smile. Root pulled the pouch open and poured the contents into her palm. 

 

“Oh my, Sam,” she gasped. She used her index finger to poke through a small pile of jewels, mostly emeralds, garnets, and sapphires with a couple of diamonds mixed in. She looked from the gemstones to Shaw and back again. “Did you?” 

 

“Yeah, well, what’s the point of going on a heist if you don’t nab a little souvenir?” Shaw shrugged. “Anyway, I thought you would like them.” 

 

“They’re for me?” Root asked.

 

“Yeah, dummy, of course they’re for you. Man you must still be stupid drunk.” 

 

“Oh Sameen,” Root sighed. She put the jewels back into the pouch and clasped it over her heart. “While I do not condone you stealing from a dangerous target, I am touched. Thank you.” 

 

“You’ll be touched alright, as soon as you sober up,” Shaw mumbled. She flopped back into bed next to Root. “Can we go to sleep now? Please?” 

 

“You’re so cute when you’re sleepy and grouchy, Sweetie.” Root settled back down in bed, still holding the velvet pouch. Shaw shut the lights again, and they were quiet. Shaw had almost drifted off to sleep when she heard Root’s voice, small and shy behind her, “So, you’ll never run off to Barcelona?” 

 

“Nope.” Shaw responded definitively. “Not in a million years. Now shut up and go to sleep. I need to get my rest so I can pound you in the morning. Then we have about an eternity of trying to decipher the instructions Harold sent us for deactivating that virus.” 

 

“Fair enough,” Root yawned. “Sounds like a plan.”


	14. Ten Hours to Kill in a CIA Safe House

“You know this is crazy, right?” Shaw grumbled. “Finch would not be happy if he knew we were doing this.” 

 

“Don’t worry about Harold,” Root said, her mouth full of apple. “Besides, I know you’ll keep me safe.” She finished crunching and swallowed. 

 

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that,” Shaw said and handed Root the plastic zip tie. Root took another big bite out of the apple, then set it on the table as she simultaneously munched and looped the zip tie around her wrists. She swallowed the apple, then brought her hands to her mouth so she could tighten it with her teeth. She smiled proudly at Shaw. “Trust me.” 

 

“Never,” Shaw said. Root sat down in the chair and Shaw brought the black hood over to her. “You’re sure about this?” 

 

“Sure as I’ll ever be.” She said. Shaw slipped the hood over her head. There was something about Root sitting there, bound and hooded. It got under Shaw’s skin. It made her a little itchy. She stretched her neck to the right and then to the left, enjoying the little pops and cracks. 

 

“Stand up.” 

 

“What? They can’t be here already. We have hours to kill, Shaw.” 

 

“No. They’re not here. Now, I said stand up.” 

 

Root acquiesced. Shaw stepped in closer to her and put her hands on Root’s hips. She leaned in and kissed Root through the black hood. She could smell the faint, fresh trace of fruit on Root’s breath. “Mmmmm,” Root moaned. “I see someone has found a way to pass the time. Sneaky girl.” 

 

“Be quiet,” Shaw whispered. She unbuttoned Root’s pants and slid them down over her hips, pulling her panties along with them. She helped Root step out of them, one leg at a time. Shaw stood up and put her hands on Root’s shoulders. “Now sit,” she said and pushed her back into the chair, at once firm and gentle. She bent over Root, a hand on either side of the chair, and leaned in very close to her ear. “You are so pretty,” she whispered. Her breath came hot through the fabric of the hood onto Root’s cheek. “You don’t even know how crazy you drive me, Root, but I’m going to try to give you a little taste.” She nipped at Root’s earlobe through the hood and could feel Root’s shoulders rise quickly as she caught her breath. 

 

“Oh my,” Root said quietly. 

 

“Hush,” Shaw said and knelt between Root’s knees, pushing them apart a bit more. She knelt there, stroking up and down Root’s legs, kissing her knees and the insides of her thighs. She tickled Root’s skin with her tongue until she couldn’t stand it anymore, and then she lowered her face and let her mouth cover Root’s mound. Root instinctively tilted her hips into Shaw’s face, but this made Shaw back away. “Now, now. We have ten hours here, give or take, and I’m just getting started, so sit back and relax.” 

 

Root was breathing hard and fast. Her eyes were open in the hood, but it was totally dark and the darkness somehow enhanced Shaw’s kisses, licks, and nibbles. Every nerve on her body was alive and buzzing with pleasure bordering on pain, but her mind was stuck back on the fact that Shaw had called her pretty. She wondered if the having her face hidden behind the hood had made Shaw feel more comfortable expressing herself, but she didn’t have time to think for long as Shaw plunged two fingers deep into Root. Root gasped and bit her lips to keep from crying out, because she was so close and she didn’t want Shaw to stop. She rolled and then closed her eyes as Shaw flexed and curled her fingers inside of her in just the right way. Root tightened around her, ready to come but wanting to hold off for just a moment longer. She wasn’t ready for it to be over. Not yet. 

 

Shaw however was relentless, and between her fingers and her tongue she brought Root right to the edge. “You like that?” She asked, stopping suddenly. 

 

“Uh. . . uh huh,” Root whimpered.

 

“You want more?” 

 

“Oh yes.”

 

“Say please.” 

 

Root instinctively tilted her head as though to look down at Shaw, but of course could see nothing but the black of the hood. She had a feeling Shaw had her right where she wanted her. Usually Root called the shots, and by the tone of Shaw’s voice, Root could tell she was enjoying every second of being in control. “Please, Sameen. Pretty, pretty please.” 

 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Shaw murmured and nuzzled her face against Root’s silky thigh, teasing another frustrated moan out of her bound lover. She returned to Root’s center with her tongue, licking with a moderate pressure that brought Root right back to the brink. “You gonna’ come for me?” 

 

“Oh, fuuu. . . oh, yes. Yes!” Root cried and bucked her hips up to increase the pressure of Shaw’s tongue and lips as she spilled into a gushing climax. Shaw lapped up wave after wave of Root’s pleasure and kept going at her, slipping a third finger in to bring her to another shattering orgasm. Then another. 

 

After her third, Root risked raising her hands to touch the top of Shaw’s head. She knitted her fingers into Shaw’s hair and kneaded at her scalp, trying her best not to get Shaw’s hair tangled in the zip tie. She pushed Shaw’s face away from her core. “Had enough?” Shaw asked and Root could tell she was grinning from ear to ear. 

 

“Yes,” Root gasped. “Enough.” 

 

“Alrighty then,” Shaw said and stood much more suddenly than Root would have liked. The sudden absence of her hands and mouth and breath against Root’s skin was like an injection of adrenaline into Root, and because she couldn’t see where Shaw was going, she panicked. 

 

“Sameen?” She said in a voice that sounded almost shrill, as she turned her hooded head from side to side. It hadn’t even occurred to her to remove the hood.

 

“Relax,” Shaw said in her preternaturally calm voice. She put a hand on Root’s shoulder. “I just went to get some water. Root heard her swallow, and then she felt Shaw’s hands come under the hood. Shaw guided the glass to Root’s lips and Root took a sip. “Good?” Shaw asked as she took the glass away. 

 

“Yeah,” Root said. She heard Shaw put the glass down on a table. “But Shaw, come here.” Shaw came to stand in front of Root. Root awkwardly grabbed at the air in front of her until she found Shaw and pulled her closer. Shaw straddled Root’s knees, which were now together in as ladylike a fashion as a bound and hooded, half-naked woman could possibly be. Shaw lowered herself onto Root’s lap and Root leaned in so that her head rested on Shaw’s chest. Shaw put her arms around Root and kissed her again through the now damp material of the hood. 

 

They stayed like that for some time, as Root’s breathing slowed, without speaking. Then Shaw stood up and helped Root back into her pants.


	15. Shadow Map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a small, stream of consciousness. Or actually it is smol, like Shaw is smol. It contains some vague sexual content. Sorry for the delay in posting. Real life and all. Enjoy!

In the dark it is safe.

 

In the dark I whisper _I love you. I love you. IloveyouIloveyou_. Into her lips. Against her eyelids. In the dark, I trace over the bones of her body with my breath. I bite her bicep and lick her clavicle.

 

Little by little I’m teaching her, helping her to relearn what is real. Our lessons take place in the dark.

 

In the dark, I tell her a hundred times, _You’re mine_. I sob it on her thigh. I twirl it into her center with my tongue.

 

She’s come back to me. My pretty girl. In the shadows, I promise her everything. I follow the map of her sighs until I find the spot where I can sink myself inside her flesh. Her back arches. Her mouth opens. She gasps as I ride her.

 

_loveyouloveyouIloveyou. . . oh how you’re mine and I love you and don’t ever leave me._

 

I pant the words until I am hoarse, until my throat is on fire and we can barely breathe. I tattoo her neck with my teeth.

 

She’s so quiet.

 

“You’re safe here,” I tell her.

 

“We’re not safe anywhere,” she sighs.

 

“You’re mine and you’re safe with me,” I whisper on her forehead as my fingers twist her nipple.

 

“I don’t know what’s real,” she replies.

 

In the dark, I feel her hover over me, silky and silent as a ghost.

 

“Aren’t you happy to be here? You’re with me.”

 

“No. I’m not happy.”

 

“But why?”

 

“Because nothing is real.”

 

“We are real.”

 

“How do I know that?”

 

“Because I told you.” I say this and she collapses on top of me. She’s so small. My hands encircle her waist where it is over mine. She’s tiny, almost weightless.

 

“I don’t believe it,” she growls and turns her face into my neck. She’s still and I feel warm, wet drops fall on my shoulder. Everything is still except for those tears as they slide down my skin.

 

“You have to believe it,” I finally say. “I need you to believe it.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Fine. Then I’ll believe it for both of us, just like I always have.” My fingers drift up her spine, going slow over every little bump. “What do you want?” I ask.

 

“I want to go back,” she says.

 

“Back to where?”

 

“Back to before I ever met you. I want to go back to a time and place when I didn’t even know you existed.”

 

“Not possible, Sweetie.” My hands rest on either of her shoulders, like wings. I stretch my fingers until they are in her hair. I weave my fingers into her hair, twist it into my fists and pull until she arches up. Her nose comes to touch mine. “Kiss me. Kiss me now,” I hiss. She obliges by sinking her teeth into my lips. My hips start to work against hers in the rhythm of my chant. _I love you. I love you. I love you._

 

In the dark she is my own. I make her mine over and over and over again. I promise it will stay dark and safe. She nips at the fleshy tops of my breasts. She puts a hand on my throat. I can feel her starting to believe me as she snakes her other hand inside me. My toes tense. I clutch at her with my legs. “You’re mine,” I say.

 

“Uh huh,” she grunts.

 

“Tell me. Tell me now!” I hold her face in my hands. Her eyes are wide and wild. There is no breath left for our lungs. Her eyes shine in the dark. They are the only thing I can see.

 

“We’re real,” she gasps and collapses against me.

 

“That’s my girl,” I manage and hold her body tight.

 

Little by little, I’m teaching her that in the dark, we are safe.


	16. Pas De Deux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sexual Shoot content. It is totally not in sync with the show, but is a compilation of stuff that made my imagination go hmmmm. . . Sorry it has been so long since I updated. Real life screws stuff up big time. But thanks to all who comment and read and are cool with this fic. It seriously gives me life and inspiration... Also, this ballet theme might be revisited at another time in another way because I kind of can't get enough of it. xoxo.

Root came flying into the little practice room. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. But what are you wearing?” 

“You like? It’s my latest cover. Swan Lake. Second act is about to start in like fifteen minutes and I need to get ready for my makeup and costume change. So what’s up?”

“You haven’t called me or returned any of my calls, Root.” 

“If I remember correctly, we were together about 48 hours ago. And actually, my clit is still a bit, uh, I don’t know if swollen is the right word? Anyway, it is not unpleasant. But I didn’t think you did needy, Sameen.” 

“I am not needy,” Shaw snapped. “It’s just you could return your voicemails. Or texts. Or emails. . . you see where I’m going with this?” 

“What’s the emergency, Shaw?” She said breathlessly. 

“Does there have to be an emergency?” Shaw huffed. She leaned back against the piano and crossed her arms over her chest. Root seemed not to notice Shaw’s irritation. 

“Um, well, yeah, when you text me 911, there should be some sort of emergency.” 

“Close and lock the door,” Shaw said. “I’ll give you an emergency.” A slow smile spread over Root’s face as she figured out what Shaw was after, and she turned to obey. She shut the door with a neat click, and pressed the lock down. Shaw looked her up and down. The ballet costume was seriously hot. The tutu was just about the most frothy and girly thing she had ever seen, and had Root not been inside of said tutu, Shaw probably would have been completely disgusted by it. But underneath the layers of tulle, Root’s long, lithe legs stretched to the ground, in white tights. Root stood there in her pale, stocking clad feet. Her pointe shoes were tied together and slung over her shoulder. Her shoulders were bare, except for two thin straps, and her breast was only just covered by a thin layer of satin and a foam of feathers. Shaw encircled Root’s waist with her hands. “Who the fuck can just suddenly take the cover of a prima ballerina and star in the title role of Swan-Fucking-Lake?” 

“Me,” Root said, and was unable to hide her gloat. “That’s who. Although if I am telling the truth, I’m not actually in the title role. I’m just one of many swans in the corps de ballet.”

“Fuck it’s hot when you speak French. And please don’t ever bother telling me the truth.” 

“Really? No truth? Cuz I could come up with some pretty sweet little lies to whisper in your pretty little ear.” Root fluffed her lips into an almost ridiculous pout. 

“Oh yeah?” Shaw said and took another step into Root. 

“Yeah,” Root said and put her hands on Shaw’s shoulders. 

“Oh my god I have to taste you right fucking now,” Shaw said. 

“Sweetie, I’ve been dancing pretty much for the past six hours. We had rehearsal and then a warm up and then a matinee before this performance. I’m not so sure I’m quite delectable at the moment.” 

“You’re delectable and I’m starving, Root,” Shaw mumbled and bit the silky and sweaty crook of Root’s neck. She loved the way Root tasted after a long day, and even after vigorous exercise, savory and hot and almost spicy like a complicated and exotic curry. 

“But I’ve got to be back out there in less than ten minutes.” 

“Oh, I think that will be plenty of time,” Shaw murmured. She pulled Root roughly up against her. Even with Root in bare feet, and Shaw in high heeled boots, she still had to stretch her neck up about as far as it would go to reach Root’s lips. They kissed and Shaw ran her hands up and down Root’s back, searching for the zipper or buttons or hooks or whatever the hell it was that held Root in that damn costume. “How do we get you out of this thing?” She said angrily. 

“Uh uh, Sweetie,” Root sighed and shook her head. “As much as I would love to engage in a super sexy pas de deux with you right now, and as much as I do agree ten minutes would be more than enough time for you to get me off about seven times, wardrobe actually has to sew me into this costume. Can you believe that? They sew me into the costume! Makes it fit just right, if I do say so myself. And if you tore it up, well. . . it would kind of ruin the effect.” She ran her hands up and down her waist and did a little twirl for Shaw’s benefit. 

“You are enjoying this way too much, Root,” Shaw said and grabbed Root’s satin encased waist. She thrust her up against the piano and then pushed her down onto it so her ass pressed the keys in a deep, melancholy, and tuneless series of notes. She spread her legs open, stroked her hands out to Roots knees and said, “Stay.” Shaw pulled over the piano bench and sat down on it in front of Root. “I’ll just have to do you over the costume. Can’t say I’ve ever been diving beneath a tutu before,” Shaw said and licked her lips greedily. 

But before she could go any further, Root put a hand on either side of Shaw’s face. “Sameen,” she said in a tone that was both warning and indulgent. “I can’t have you getting lipstick all over my costume. It’ll look like the Swan Princess has her period when my partner lifts me up into that Russian straddle split.” She hopped off the piano bench. “I’ve got to go,” she said and planted a little kiss on Shaw’s forehead.

“You. Are. Such. A. Fucking. Tease.” Shaw grumbled. 

“If you are a good girl, I’ll bring the costume home for play time after I’m done here.” 

“Fine,” Shaw groused. “But I’m ripping out all these tidy, little stitches,” she ran her finger up Root from her navel to her breasts and then back down again. “And I am going to fuck you with the biggest and hardest cock we own,” she slid her hands in between Root’s legs and grabbed her crotch as hard as she possibly could. 

“I’d expect no less,” Root whispered and licked Shaw’s lips with her hot tongue. She ran her hand up to gently caress Shaw’s breast before tweaking her nipple and making Shaw jump a little with the sudden pain. “And I can’t wait to taste you as you come all over me.” 

“Fuck yes,” Shaw growled and grabbed a handful of Root’s glorious and firm ass, just for good measure. “It’s like you can read my mind.” 

“Ok, Sweetie, gotta run,” Root said with a final kiss. 

“Is this gonna take long?” Shaw asked, and squirmed a little in her pants. 

“To tell you the truth, I’ve already killed the mark, but I want to finish the second act of the show, you know, for fun,” Root said. Shaw crossed her arms over her chest again and scowled at the fact that Root was going to make her wait. 

“How’d you do it?” Shaw asked. 

Root smiled again and took the ballet slippers from her shoulder. “I strangled him with my pointe shoes,” she said slyly, and then turned to walk to the door. 

Shaw’s mouth hung open as she whispered, “Fuck,” in a state of the most aroused awe she’d ever experienced. 

Root put her hand on the door handle, but turned back to Shaw before she opened it. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said and arched her brows suggestively. “Oh, and by the way, Sameen, I think I’m pregnant with your baby.” She smiled and left the room with a little giggle. Shaw rolled her eyes and shook her head and started mentally making a list of the things she would need to prepare at home for their date later on.

**Author's Note:**

> I live for comments and I am also willing to take prompts, which you can leave in the comments for me! Thank you so much for reading... oxo.


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